


Suddenly I know (I'm not sleeping)

by BatsAreFluffy



Series: Like tears in the rain [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Day 9: sacrifice, Gen, Possible Character Death, Whumptober 2020, but you can read it like that, nothing stated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatsAreFluffy/pseuds/BatsAreFluffy
Summary: Day 9: sacrificeHello I'm your mind giving you someone to talk toI'm still hereAll that's left of yesterday.
Series: Like tears in the rain [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950151
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Suddenly I know (I'm not sleeping)

The autumn air was crisp and scented with cinnamon. The lawns were strewn with fallen leaves, gold and red against the rich green. A pile of sweaters was being used as a goal post, a few patio cushions were the opposite goal. There was hot chocolate and raspberry tarts and apple pie in the corner that was still steaming.

“Shall I call the boys in for dinner, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, wiping his hands on the plaid apron.

Bruce shook his head. “Let’s give them a few more minutes.”

Alfred nodded, and took off the yellow apron. “Of course. Time for breakfast, then, sir?”

The early morning sun streamed into the lake house, sparkling off the rippling water. “I think I have a meeting at 8, don’t I, Alfred?”

“Most likely, you always seem to be somewhere else these days.”

The rain poured down the windowsill, rattling the old glass in the library window. Bruce could feel the chill in his bones, deep, painful. “It’s better than drinking alone,” he muttered, ignoring the slamming door to his left.

-

_\- eta 6 minutes, westbound_

_\- the eastern side is taken care of, anyone need a pair of speedy hands?_

_\- watch your 6, Arthur!_

\- 

The autumn air was crisp and scented with cinnamon. The lawns were strewn with fallen leaves, gold and red against the rich green. A pile of sweaters was being used as a goal post, a few patio cushions were the opposite goal. There was hot chocolate and raspberry tarts and apple pie in the corner that was still steaming. The dogs lay under the table, content in the afternoon sun.

“Shall I call the boys in for dinner, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, wiping his hands on the plaid apron. He was leaning on a cane, his grandfather’s, more than ever the picture of an old man.

Bruce shook his head. “I’ll bring them in, Alfred. You go ahead and grab a seat.” He smiled, and turned around. “Wouldn’t want you to be hit with a football on Thanksgiving.”

Alfred nodded, and took off the yellow apron. “Of course. Time for breakfast, then, sir?” He lay down the early morning papers, tsking at the empty wine bottle.

The early morning sun streamed into the lake house, sparkling off the rippling water. “I think I have a meeting at 8. I should have time for coffee, Alfred.”

Alfred nodded, striding surely away from the scene. “I’ll start in on that, sir. Mind the scones, they are still rather hot from re-entry.”

“I’ll take one with me. Will you drive me into the office this morning?”

“Most likely, you always seem to be somewhere else these days.”

The rain poured down the windowsill, rattling the old glass in the library window. Bruce could feel the chill in his bones, deep, painful. It was cold outside, cold inside, and Bruce could not bring himself to care. “I can’t be here anymore, Alfred. It hurts too much.”

“It hurts us all, Bruce. You didn’t love him alone, we all did.”

Bruce shook with a stifled sob. “I know. But he was my _son_. I can’t bear it anymore, Alfred. It’s better than drinking alone,” he muttered, ignoring the slamming door to his left.

-

_\- anyone have eyes on the leader?_

_\- incoming 5 o’clock, watch your fins!_

_\- these things won’t just die already_

_\- anyone seen Bats?_

-

The autumn air was crisp and scented with cinnamon. The lawns were strewn with fallen leaves, gold and red against the rich green. A pile of sweaters was being used as a goal post, a few patio cushions were the opposite goal. There was hot chocolate and raspberry tarts and apple pie in the corner that was still steaming. The dogs lay under the table, content in the afternoon sun.

Bruce looked down at his hands, older, liver spotted. They looked like his father’s hand, right before he died. There were no bruises.

“Shall I call the boys in for dinner, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, wiping his hands on the plaid apron. He was leaning on a cane, his grandfather’s, more than ever the picture of an old man. The idea of retirement hung in the air. Would this be the last Thanksgiving Alfred stayed with them?

Bruce shook his head. “I’ll bring them in, Alfred. You go ahead and grab a seat.” He smiled, and turned around. “Better safe – Alfred, what’s going on?” The early morning rays blinded him from the person in front of him.

Alfred paused, a middle age man with a cane that he wouldn’t need for fifteen more years. “This isn’t correct, sir?”

Bruce shook his head, dizzy. “I’m not going into the office,” he found himself saying faintly. “Could you make breakfast?”

Alfred nodded, and sprang up the short stairs. “Of course, sir.”

The rain poured down the windowsill, rattling the old glass in the library window. Bruce felt his knees buckle, hit the floor, hear gasping breaths. His whole body was cold, tired, and refused to move at all. The soft Oxford footsteps came closer, stopped beside the armchair.

“Why do I keep coming back here, Alfred? I don’t want to be here anymore, Alfred. It hurts too much.”

“It hurts us all, Bruce. But we can’t avoid it any longer.” Alfred sat beside him, long brushed coat flared beside him. “This is all we can do, in the end. We’re so sorry.”

Bruce nodded, shaking in his armour. “I know. Don’t leave, Alfred. I’m sorry. I can’t bear it anymore, Alfred.”

“I know, Bruce. I know.”

-

\- _anyone? Someone find Batman?_

_\- the portal is closing, get off everything!_

_\- Arthur and Barry are free, Diana’s out, Superman, evac!_

_\- where’s Bruce?_

_\- we don’t have time, get off now!_

_\- evacuate, Clark. I’ve got this. Rendezvous on 5_

_\- it’s powering down! Everybody, move it!_

_\- 4_

-

The door slammed shut on their left.

**Author's Note:**

> I leave the ending to you. Yes, I know I'm going to get hate mail for this one. :)


End file.
